penetrator in like a pendulum and I grabbed
it and pulled myself out of the crevice [page
367]. I went up and down three times, messed
up in chute, shroud lines, and branches. The
third time up, they pulled me aboard, and I
just lay on my back in the helicopter looking
up at the PJ.
"I said, 'God, you look beautiful.'
"These Jolly Green boys are a breed all by
their lonesome. As happy as we were to get
picked up, the Jolly Greens were even happier
to have done it."
Another visitor to Udorn when I was there
was Capt. Gregory A. M. Etzel from Albany,
Georgia, who wears the coveted Air Force
Cross among his decorations. He came limp
ing in on crutches one morning (page 355).
364 He was injured on January 15, 1968-a day
those who lived through it will never forget.
It began when an Air Force plane with
seven men aboard was hit by an air-to-air
missile fired by a MIG-21 and went down
about 80 miles west of Hanoi. When rescue
got the call, Captain Etzel with a crew of four
took off in a Jolly Green for the crash site.
"Visibility was 50 feet," he said, "and clouds
were pouring like milk over the edge of the
cliff. We had one more ridge to cross when we
hit the mountainside. The rotor blades broke
on impact, the right front section of the cock
pit fell off, and I was thrown clear of the ship
still strapped in my seat."
The rescue crew suffered serious injuries.
Captain Etzel had a broken leg. Capt. David
Holt, the copilot, had a broken foot. The PJ,
Sgt. Angus Sowell, had broken both a leg